


freedom, what art thou name and may I partake

by InsanelyYours96



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And love, Bargains, Irony, Just not yet, M/M, Manipulation, Merman Harry, Pre-Slash, Sea!Wizard Voldemort, being outmaneuvered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 09:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13610787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanelyYours96/pseuds/InsanelyYours96
Summary: To gain ten years of freedom, Harry sacrifices the rest of his life.





	freedom, what art thou name and may I partake

“Why do you desire legs, child?”

“I am not good enough like this,” the boy mutters, fingers running absently across his showy crimson shoulder scales. They don’t suit his meekness by half. “I can’t _escape_ like this.”

“The ocean is vast,” Voldemort says skeptically. “Surely vast enough to hide a small creature such as yourself.”

The boy scowls, not meeting Voldemort’s eyes but glaring into the darkness over his shoulder. The cavern isn’t at all bright, yet his green eyes seem luminous. Voldemort wants to pluck them from his head.

“Not that it’s really your business,” he spits combatively, and Voldemort has killed for far less than a tone such as that. Perhaps such bright scales suit the brash child after all. “But it’s not exactly easy to hide from the ruler of the sea.”

A bit of Voldemort’s ill will drains.

But only a bit.

“Oh?”

The boy, _Harry_ , huffs, meeting his eyes at last.

“I’m not a murderer,” he claims. It sounds like he’s stating a fact rather than condemning the act altogether, perhaps in deference to the “Sea Wizard’s” own infamous proclivities. “I’m not a puppet, either. I just want to live my own life, and if that means I can only live it for ten years before relinquishing my soul, or whatever foolish deal I’ll soon be agreeing to… well, I’d prefer years of living to just surviving.”

An interesting distinction, certainly. It sparked a distant memory.

 _“Neither can live while the other survives…_ ”

Voldemort hissed quietly, swimming a bit closer. “Who is it that Dumbledore wants you to kill?”

There’s a period of silence. Voldemort’s tentacles flicker impatiently. He is still cloaked in the shadows, the only thing visible of him his red eyes. Harry holds his gaze for a long moment before relenting.

“Lord Voldemort,” the child admits wearily. Red eyes blink out as Voldemort flits from his view, turning the information over in his head.

How ironic. The boy prophesied to kill him seems to not care to, and in trying to escape his fate has run towards it instead.

“And you do not wish to kill the most evil creature to ever defile the sea?”

Harry bristles.

“That’s a disgusting exaggeration. I don’t believe anybody is wholly good or evil, nor do I think people should be _forced_ to kill. And why does it have to be my business, my responsibility, to kill a person I’ve never even met? Why do I have to continue a legacy of hatred that I don’t feel myself just to appease a manipulative old man?”

The child huffed. “I won’t kill Voldemort. If I have it my way, I’ll never so much as lay eyes on him. He’s not my business, and he’s not my problem.”

“You do not wish for revenge? He killed your family… left you alone in this world…”

“I don’t care,” Harry sighed, sounding much more exhausted than he had minutes ago. “I don’t have the time or compassion to feel hatred over those I’ve never known. _Please,_ just tell me your decision. Will you strike a bargain with me?”

There was a moment of absolute stillness. Harry’s fangs dug into his lips, not quite hard enough to spill his blood.

“Very well, child.” Voldemort hissed. “We will bargain. I shall grant you freedom on the shore, and on your twenty-sixth birthday you will be returned to the ocean and become my loyal servant.”

Green eyes shone bright. “You will never have me kill,” Harry says. “I won’t so much as harm another being under your word.”

Voldemort hummed. “So it shall be,” he says. “But to this condition I offer one other: you can never touch the sea in these ten years. If you so much as dip your toes in it, your life is forfeit to me early and your servitude will begin immediately.”

For a moment, it appears as if Harry’s gills have stopped working and he has begun to asphyxiate. Those green eyes grow large, and small, clawed hands dig into flesh hard enough that Voldemort can scent his blood.

He knows that it’s cruel, unthinkable really, to ask a sea creature to stay away from their home. To forbid them from even wading into it, no matter how much their heart may begin to ache. But he has never been a kind man, and while he does not mind waiting, something in him itches for a loophole.

He does not want to release this peculiar creature. He wants Harry’s servitude _now_. And if Voldemort can not have it, he can at least have his suffering - this child who has caused him so very many problems simply by existing.

“Do we have a deal, Harry Potter?”

The boy swallows, and swims closer. “Come into the light, first,” he requests.

Voldemort ponders this. It will be amusing, to see Harry’s reaction to the “Sea Wizard’s” true identity. And if he balks and tries to run from this deal he has been bartering for, Voldemort will simply rip his throat out. Either way, there’s nothing for him to lose.

Voldemort swims forward.

He expects a gasp. Maybe some explicit language, and certainly for the boy to try and flee. He has his tentacles ready, in any case.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t appear tremendously surprised. He flicking tail stills, his mouth slackening a bit. He glances from Voldemort’s seven tentacles to his long, clawed fingers, and then back to red eyes. He looks almost in awe, which is out of place for usually merpeople scream at the sight of Voldemort’s unusual visage.

“We have a deal.” The words snap shackles on each of their magic, binding them to their agreement.

Voldemort smiles sharply and swims even closer. He gently pulls Slytherin’s locket over his head, and leans down to kiss the brilliantly silver surface. It lights up, green as Harry’s eyes.

“This amulet will give you your legs, and whatever else a human has. When the time has come it shall also guide you back to me. It knows what is in your heart. Give it a drop of blood and your wildest of wishes will come true.”

Harry stops at this, hesitating from where he had been reaching out. “My wildest wishes? That is hardly to be a human and forced away from the sea.”

Voldemort sneers at him. “Well, I should hope not. It’s a saying - simple showmanship.”

“So a lie,” Harry sighs.

He grabs the locket, settling it around his neck, and gives Voldemort one last, lingering look before turning to the caverns entrance.

“Where are you going?” Voldemort hisses.

“I should go to the surface before feeding this my blood,” Harry rebuts, like it’s obvious. “Onto the sands, at the very least, if not further. Otherwise I’d have been touching the sea, which means I would immediately be yours.”

Voldemort smiles sharply. “Ah, you think things through after all. Very well, you have seen past my first trick. I hope to see you before these ten years are up, _Harry_ , or you might very well earn the title of clever.”

Harry huffs.

“I’ll be in your servitude soon enough, Lord Voldemort,” he says, and swims away.

Soon enough? Thinks Voldemort. Hardly.

Still, ten years is long enough for him to wage war. Perhaps he will even be done toppling Dumbledore’s empire before Harry returns to him.

Though truly, it isn’t as though Voldemort is leaving the boy alone. A piece of his soul will watch over the child and, sooner or later, lure him to the sea.

It is only a matter of time.

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story was inspired because of art by Wasserspiegel, "To be human". You can find her piece on deviantart, along with a heck of a lot more Tomarry/Harrymort artwork. It's all. So. Stunning.


End file.
